


Something Blue

by celinamarniss



Series: Legacy [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, Gen, Self-Indulgent, Wedding Planning, ideal wedding, these nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celinamarniss/pseuds/celinamarniss
Summary: An unconventional proposal.
Relationships: Mara Jade/Talon Karrde
Series: Legacy [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/560471
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Set after _Queen from the Stars_ and before chapter 5 of _The Death of Jabba._
> 
> I outlined my idea for Mara and Karrde’s wedding in the Legacy verse in the comments to “The Death of Jabba,” but the idea stuck with me until I turned it into a ficlet.

They were going over the intel D’ukal had sent from Hapes when Meena’s clan mother burst into Karrde’s office. Her jaw was set, and Meena could sense the tension crackling around her like electricity. If Meena hadn’t already known that Mara had spent the morning in an Inner Council meeting, her robes would have confirmed it. The formal Jedi robes Mara wore were made of fine, heavy fabric, in layered shades of ochre and russet, each fold of her tabard and obi crisp and precise. Her hair was gathered up in an elaborately wrought golden clasp at the back of her head, though a few strands had worked their way loose. 

Karrde passed his datapad to Meena, who sat perched on her customary stool beside his desk as they worked. Sidestepping the empty chair that sat in front of Karrde’s desk, Mara strode up to the edge of the desk and braced her hands on the surface.

“We need to get married,” Mara said. 

Meena made an undignified squeak which both her clan parents ignored. 

“When would you like to get married?” Karrde asked. His tone was calm and measured as ever, though Meena had sensed the burst of surprise that had rippled out of him at Mara’s words. 

Mara straightened. “Now?” She waved a hand, as though the exact timing of the event wasn’t something she considered relevant. “As soon as possible.”

Without breaking eye contact with Mara, Karrde held out a hand in Meena’s direction. Meena scrambled through the stack of datapads on top of the desk as Karrde asked, “where would you like the wedding to take place?” 

Mara’s brow furrowed. “In the Temple.” She sounded unsure, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to her. 

As soon as Meena uncovered Karrde’s private datapad from the stack she placed it in his waiting hand. Karrde glanced down at it, his fingers flicking quickly over the surface. “Paperwork for a religious ceremony, then. Will this be a public event or—”

“Kriff, _no._ Though we’ll need a public official to register the marriage, of course. I want it on record.” She bit out the last comment with surprising vehemence. 

Karrde nodded. “Meena will contact the right offices.” 

The light on the corner of Meena’s datapad blinked as Karrde synced his datapad to hers. She opened the relevant file and began reviewing the list of bribes that needed to be paid and strings that needed to be pulled to secure the paperwork as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

“The Jedi will be present, I assume,” Karrde continued. “We can serve light refreshments in the solarium. Is this evening too soon?” 

“I’ll clear her schedule,” Meena said. 

Mara made a sound—a sort of a huffing laugh—and Meena looked up to see her clan mother starting at the both of them. 

“You already have this all arranged haven’t you?” She lifted a hand to her forehead and flopped backward onto the chair, chuckling again. “How long have you been planning this?” 

Karrde put the datapad down. “What happened today, Mara?” he asked quietly. 

Mara snorted, looking past him to a point on the wall. “Fey'lya kept— _insinuating_ things about our relationship. Wouldn’t shut his kriffing mouth.” 

Meena exchanged a look with her clan father. They’d expected something of the kind ever since he’d moved to Coruscant and set up an office in the corporate district. 

Mara sighed. “I lost my temper.” She met his eyes again, and her expression changed, apprehension spreading over her face. “I didn’t do this right, did I? I’m sorry, I—” 

“Yes, I will marry you, Mara. I will marry you wherever you wish, whenever you choose.” 

Conflicting expressions shifted across Mara’s face as she stared back at Karrde—surprise and affection and disbelief—finally resolving into a faint expression of exasperation. “Talon. How long have you had this planned?” 

Her clan father hesitated for only a moment. “Two years. I drew up plans for a small service or a large public event, whichever you preferred.” 

Mara’s eyebrows rose. “Only two options?” 

“Ah. Well.”

“Uh-huh,” Mara drawled. She sounded just like Uncle Han when she did that. “Have you picked out what I’m going to wear, too?” 

Karrde hesitated again, his hand pausing over the datapad. 

Mara rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t have an opinion.” 

“The blue dress from Mirial.” 

Meena nodded, making a note. “With the Kallistan sapphire earrings?” 

Karrde murmured his approval as he made his own notes on the datapad in front of him. 

“The both of you.” Mara shook her head, a bemused expression on her face. “Are enjoying this far too much.” 

The datawork filed, Meena turned to other tasks as she waited for the response from the city officials she’d contacted. When she glanced up again, her clan mother was watching her closely. 

“Meena,” she said carefully. The sardonic expression on her face had vanished. “Do I have your permission to marry Talon?” 

“He’s already our clan father,” Meena said primly. “You don’t have to ask my permission.” 

Mara’s smile was soft. “I want your permission.” 

“You have my blessing, clan mother,” Meena said in formal Noghri, because it seemed the proper thing to do. 

“Thank you, Meena,” Karrde said. An amused smile played over his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Will I be Talon clan Skywalker now, consort of Mara Jade clan Skywalker?” 

“Yes, naturally.” Meena nodded approvingly. “Whenever you’re required to provide a clan name.” 

Mara wasn’t smiling. Meena could sense the grief her clan mother carried with her like a shadow thickening the air around her. “I know it’s his name,” she began haltingly. She met Karrde’s eyes and then looked away. “Is that...wrong?” 

“I don’t think so,” Karrde said, his face grave. “It’s your family’s name, Mara. Does it bother you?” 

“I don’t know.” Mara rubbed her eyes. “He’s been dead for so long. I don’t know what he’d think. I don’t know…” 

“Clan mother,” Meena said in rapid Noghri, knowing that Karrde wasn’t adept enough in the language to follow her speech. “You carry his ghost within you. You _know_ the answer.” 

_Ghost_ wasn’t the right word, but it was the best way to convey the concept in her native tongue. _Spirit_ in Basic was probably better, but still couldn’t capture the sensory and emotional afterimages burned into Mara’s being. Ben’s father had died before Meena had even been born, but she knew about the Force bond Luke and Mara had shared, and could sense the impression he had left behind. 

Mara nodded and Meena ducked her head, unable to look at the uncertain expression on her clan mother’s face for long. She felt a gentle swell of gratitude through the Force, like a hand brushing the back of her head. 

“I would be honored to carry your clan name,” Karrde said, his voice low. 

“I love you,” Mara breathed. 

Karrde got out of his chair and walked around his desk until he stood in front of Mara. “Is this what you want, Mara?” Karrde asked. Meena couldn’t see his face clearly from where she sat, but his tone was gentle. 

“Yes,” Mara said softly. “It’s perfect.” 

Karrde drew her to her feet and into his arms and kissed her, while Meena kept her head studiously bent over her datapad. She looked up again when she heard Mara’s laugh. “We’ve forgotten Ben.” 

Karrde leaned back, reaching an arm across the desk behind him and keyed a number onto his comm unit. 

“What?” Ben’s voice, sounding breathless and impatient, crackled through the comm line as soon as it connected. 

“Your mother and I are getting married this evening, and we’d like you to come,” Karrde said. 

_“What?”_ There was a sputtering sound on the other end of the line, and a muttered word that sounded like _“finally.”_

The corner of Karrde’s mouth twitched and Mara was grinning like a loth cat. “Meena will send you the details,” Karrde said. 

“Yeah, okay,” Ben said. “Have you told Aunt Leia?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Okay—yeah—see you soon.” Ben cut the line, doubtlessly abandoning whatever he had been doing—illegal swoop racing, Meena would put money on it—to rush across Coruscant and spill the news to the Solo clan. 

“Let him go,” Mara said. “Saves us the trouble.” 

“Make sure he wears something presentable,” Karrde told Meena.

 _“Yes,_ clan father,” Meena said with some exasperation. _As if_ she hadn’t thought of that herself. There was already a note at the end of her to-do list. 

First, she had to send off the pre-recorded messages to the Temple so that the staff and Jedi would be prepared when they arrived. The solarium would have to be arranged for the gathering. The hour Karrde had chosen for the ceremony was exactly when Coruscant’s sun, low on the horizon, filled the solarium with golden light. The light would fall on her clan mother, in her shimmering blue gown, her clan father in the bespoke suit Mara picked for him, and on all the Jedi, family, and friends who made up the Temple’s community. 

Mara and Karrde would say their vows and sign the documents that would legally bind them together as a couple in the laws of the New Republic her clan mother had fought so hard to bring into being. As the sun disappeared into the deep canyons of the city, the sky would take on a dark hue, the city providing its own sparkling illumination, visible through the broad windows of the solarium. 

The Temple’s cook—an Ithorian master of his craft—delighted in a challenge and could be counted on to provide the perfect selection of appetizers. Meena would send him a personal message, to give him time to select the appropriate wines from his cellar, and...

“Meena?” 

Meena blinked up at Karrde and Mara. They had finished their _canoodling_ and were looking at her expectantly from the doorway. Karrde had tucked Mara’s hand into the crook of his elbow, his datapad in his other hand. “You can finish that in the speeder on the way to the Temple.” 

“We’re leaving now? But I have too much to do.” As simple as the ceremony would be, Meena didn’t want _any_ detail overlooked—not if she could help it. 

“You have to get dressed, too,” Mara reminded her. 

“Oh, alright,” Meena grumbled, making sure the last message she had composed was sent before she gathered up her datapads and slid off of her stool. Crossing the office, she joined her family and together they left for a wedding. 

  
  



End file.
